The life and times of John Watson and Sherlock
by Lolaangelbunn
Summary: John Watson adopts a small dark furred kitten shortly after returning. Sherlock seems to be a good kitten, but really dead mice in John's slippers?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I haven't been able to get this idea to leave me alone for weeks... Hope you enjoy it :)**

**If anyone wants to beta that would be much appreciated.**

**[Insert disclaimer here]**

John ran a hand over the raven kitten's back, his hand bigger than the kitten's whole body. He smiled as the tiny kitten's body vibrated as he purred, his slightly curled fur soft under John's hand.

He'd found the kitten, or rather the kitten had found him, shortly after he had been released from the hospital and rented 221b Baker street. He had immediately taken a shine to the cerulean eyes kitten, who he had named Sherlock as it just seemed to fit, and the kitten had taken a shine to him too.

He had noticed the kitten was incredibly smart. Sherlock had almost immediately found where everything was kept, he had explored 221b Baker Street in its entirety, checking out every nook and cranny and finding every possible hiding spot the flat had to offer. This scared John sometimes, the kitten would disappear for hours, days even. But he always turns up.

Sherlock's favorite pastime was to find some unsuspecting, innocent animal and then leave its carcass somewhere once he brought it into the flat. The kitchen table, the bathroom floor, the bedroom windowsill… John could list places he'd found a dead mouse or a baby bird all day. It was almost as though the kitten was conducting strange, twisted experiments. John had always wondered how Sherlock had managed to get that baby squirrel into the draw in the fridge…

The kitten was inquisitive by nature, as most cats are, but this kitten more so than any cat or kitten John had met in his entire life.

He could tell the kitten was intelligent just by looking into his innocent blue eyes. They were hard and soft at the same time. The eyes of a killer, yet the eyes of a child.

Sherlock was a born investigator and always found something to stick his nose into, unless of course, he was lying near John, a bored expression in his usually sparkling eyes.

Come to think of it, the kitten spent more time bored than anybody, human or otherwise, that John had ever met.

In fact he was lay beside John looking bored right now, His eyes looking at John as though he held the solution to his boredom. All John could think to do was continue scratching Sherlock, in which he had quickly learned was his favorite spot, between his ears, eliciting a soft purr from the kitten.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock padded across the table top, one small, raven paw in front of the other. He nuzzled his head against John's shoulder as John typed on his laptop. John didn't even look away from the screen as he rubbed Sherlock between his ears. Sherlock mewed, pulling John's attention away from the word document on screen and to Sherlock's own rumbling stomach.

"Yeah, I'm hungry too," John sighed, pushing his chair back and giving Sherlock's head one final rub before walking to the kitchen area, Sherlock at his heel, looking up at him with expectant blue eyes.

John walked first to the fridge to get Sherlock some ice cold milk to keep him quiet while John made himself some food. He began to pull the semi-skimmed milk from the fridge door, but caught the look of indignation Sherlock threw him as he meowed a noise of dicust. John smirked as he took the full-fat milk out instead, drawing a purr from the dark-furred kitten.

"There you go," John laughedas the kitten all but ran towards the terracotta dish, his blue scarf almost trailing in the cold milk. John laughed again as he ran a hand across Sherlock's back before turning to wash his hands.

Sherlock mewled his appreciation as he lapped up the thick, creamy milk, his rough tongue removing the milk clinging to the fur around his mouth. He polished the milk off fairly quickly, clambering to the top of the fridge with two smooth leaps, his thin legs contouring every muscle as he did so.

A fly caught Sherlock's attention and he began trying to bat it with his sleek paw, drawing John's eye for a moment before he smiled, shook is head and turned back to making his scrambled egg breakfast.

The fly didn't hold Sherlock's attention for long before he lay down in his patch of sunlight on top of the fridge and rolled around till he was looking at John upside down, his small front paws in the air above his head. His blue eyes were wide and innocent as he tried to get John's attention, batting his paws near the short mans head.

John shot him a warning glare, causing him to stop and simply stare at John with a bored expression held in his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here's the third one. No reviews? :(**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own. **

Six months. John had had the kitten six months and it had never, ever done this.

John had woken up on his alarm, as he did every morning, and stepped out of bed into his slippers, as he did every morning. However, this morning he was confronted with something small and warm that crushed under the weight of his foot, causing to cry out, drawing Sherlock's attention from where he was sleeping in the beam of sunlight atop the wardrobe.

John jumped out of the slipper and hopped to the bathroom to clean his foot.

After about 15 minutes John stormed from the bathroom, clean foot now clad in a sock, but not a shoe for fear of a repeat performance of earlier, and marched up to where Sherlock lay, looking at him with innocent blue eyes. John couldn't stay mad when he looked at him like that. He sighed, ending up just stroking the kitten between the ears.

"One of these days I actually will get mad at you and that look won't help, Sherlock," John warned, but the threat behind it was lost as he grinned.

Sherlock simply mewled and looked at John with his usual bored expression as John flicked the kettle on.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: here's the fourth one, They are really short... Might make some longer.**

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

John watched the snow through the window, watching sherlock chasing the tiny flakes or jumping in snowdrifts. He smiled as he watched the young cat topple over and land face first in a snowdrift, shaking himself as he jumped out. John had already been out in the snow, he'd gone to stock up on tea and milk since the snow was forecast to get far worse, and Sherlock had happily trotted alongside him the whole way, his blue scarf trailing its end along the icy floor.

Sherlock had attempted to come into the shop with John, but when John picked him up by the scruff of his small neck and deposited him on a wall, he knew to stay, even though he mewed his displeasure at having to sit on the icy surface and wait for John.

When John came back out of the shop Sherlock had somehow managed to find what appeared to be part of a frozen squirrel, and was batting it between his paws.

John clicked his tongue and Sherlock looked up, licking his lips and yawning.

"Come on," John sighed, pulling his gloves back on and adjusting Sherlock's blue scarf. Sherlock meowed as John walked off leaving him sitting on the wall. John sighed again as he lifted the young cat from the wall and held him close, keeping him warm. Sherlock nuzzled his face into John's Brown jumper as they set off back towards 221b Baker street.

Which brought him to now, standing by the window with a hot cup in his hands, watching Sherlock play in the snow, experiencing it for the first time. He laughed out loud as he watched Sherlock try and catch a Robin as it landed on the pavement to pick up some breadcrumbs, startling it into flying off. Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, knocked and walked in, carrying a box of mince pies for John.

"Merry Christmas, John," She smiled, joining him at the window. "Oh just look at Sherlock, he's having so much fun!"

laughed as she watched the young cat throwing himself into the air to try and catch the falling snowflakes. She handed John the mince pies before she turned and went back to her cooking. John laughed slightly under his breath as he went back to watching the cat, drinking his hot drink slowly.

Five minutes later John turned away from the window in search of his copy of a tale of two cities. He searched the bedroom, where he thought he's left it, only he couldn't find it. So instead he searched the lounge and kitchen. He eventually found it underneath Sherlock's soft cat bed.

"How in the-?" John sighed, deciding he probably didn't want to know.

He went back into the lounge and back to the window only to find that Sherlock was sitting in John's chair, licking snowflakes out of his whiskers and leaving small clumps of snow to melt on the fabric.

John sighed as he placed his book down, going to collect the melting clumps and putting them in the sink, getting himself a mince pie on the way back to Sherlock.

Sherlock was curled up on the arm of John's chair, waiting for John to sit down. His new favourite thing to do was to curl up on John's lap when he was reading. John crossed the room and sat down, taking the foil case off his mince pie as he settled in. Sherlock stood, stretched and walked into John's lap, curling up and licking his cold paws to try and generate some heat.

John smiled and rubbed Sherlock between his ears, feeling how cold the skin beneath the curled fur was. He made soothing noises as he warmed him up, gently stroking him to sleep as Sherlock curled himself in closer to John's stomach, sharing their heat.

When John woke up, his book was on the floor and Sherlock was still fast asleep on his knee. The bleak winter sun was setting and the snow was blowing a blizzard outside the window. The weather forcast was right for once, and it didn't look like John would be going anywhere anytime soon, so he resigned himself to a long nights sleep in his chair, since the cat showed no signs of moving anytime soom either.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock watched as John slept, leaning on his laptop where he had been writing his blog about Sherlock's latest antics.

Sherlock mewled, trying to get John's attention. When he didn't get a response, he gently padded over and nuzzled his head up against the sleeping man's shoulder, causing him to complain and move a hand to chase the cat away.

Sherlock jumped back and spun around to catch John's hand, thinking it all a game. He accidently caught John's hand with his claws, causing an imediate reaction.

John jumped, knocking Sherlock from the table in a loud meow. Sherlock scrambled fro purchase, his claws once again finding John's exposed skin to latch onto.

This time John shot up from the chair, once again sending Sherlock tumbling to the floor, this time with no chance of catching anything on the way down.

Sherlcok could see that John was bleeding and felt incredibly guilty, snuggling up to his leg only to be moved by a bare foot.

He meowed hi displeasure at this and moved closer again, watching as John set off towards the bathroom sink. Sherlock followed, close to John's heels as he looked at the blood the man wasdripping to the floor. He mewled again in an attempt to draw John's attention to the fact he was bleeding, but John payed him no attention, simply marching to the bathroom muttering a constant stream of profanities.

Sherlock made to follow John into the bathroom to check if he was alright but was met with a door being slammed in his face. Once again he voiced his displeasure before curling up and lying down near the door to wait for John to emerge.

After about half an hour, the door opened and a brown-haired woman came in carrying a small white bag.

Sherlock moved as he heard the door behind him begin to open. He turned around to greet John, but was once again ignored.

"Hey Molly," John said, walking towards the woman.

"Hey, I brought you the Tetanus shot," She said, shooting Sherlock an accusatory glance.

"Thanks," John sighed, motioning for Molly to follow him. She nodded and moved to follow him, but Sherlock stepped into her path, effectively cutting her off.

Molly sighed and leaned down, stroking the cat between his ears.

"It's not your fault, Sherlock, don't worry," She smiled sweetly, standing up and following John.

Half an hour later the pair emerged from the bathroom, John's arm in a bandage and a plaster on his hand.

"All sorted now," Molly told Sherlock, rubbing between the ears as she moved towards the door.

JOhn looked at Sherlock and smiled to himself, blowing a half-laugh out of his nose.

"Come here," He laughed, picking the young cat up and kissing his forehead and carrying him with him to let Molly out.

Sherlock nuzzled his face closer to John's chin, his cold nose brushing against John's adam's apple.

JOhn leaned down and kissed the cats head again, gently rubbing him between the ears as he let Molly out.


End file.
